


When Myths Meets Mutants

by Ember



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Animalistic, Fauns & Satyrs, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Mutant, Mutual Masturbation, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ember/pseuds/Ember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a kink meme fill, the story involves Tumnus (based on the character in Narnia) and Michelos (based on the character in the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXRSslBi2CY&ob=av2e">music video</a> with Fassbender) as mutants, arriving at the manor post-divorce.</p><p>"Tumnus, a shy little faun-like mutant, and Michelos, a rather sexed-up, mean and virile satyr, arrive at Westchester at the same time." - Read the <a href="http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/7634.html?thread=12992466">original prompt</a> for more information, but possible spoilers!</p><p>Hilarity, angst, and sexy times ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ecstasy and Love - AU (VERY AU) Crossover Porny Crack Faun!Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/7306) by lunafille and sjpheartshim. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Eventual NC-17, very, very mild dub-con, half animal men getting it on so... slight bestiality? You have been warned!
> 
> ((Would also like to note that this is post-divorce, so Erik has left the manor at this point to start the brotherhood. Tumnus and Michelos are the only new recruits, however.))

Tumnus fidgeted in his seat, nervous under Professor Xavier’s very… clear gaze. He had once heard that his own bright blue eyes could be unnerving, but he had never had the chance to experience it first hand. He had in no way thought this man would make him feel more exposed then he generally felt when showing others his true form, though it wasn’t like he had much experience in that area.

“So, you are telling me that you can generally mentally prevent others from noticing your... natural appearance?” Professor Xavier asked him, hand poised to take notes.

“Ah, y-yes, precisely.” Tumnus licked his lips. “Otherwise I feel like it would have been hard going through day to day life, ah, I suppose, looking as I do.” He clutched at the red scarf hanging from his neck.

Tumnus was well aware that he looked like something out of Greek mythology rather than rural England. Or, to be more precise, he had lived most of his life figuring that he was a faun, given the fact that he had goat legs, rounded ears which stuck out, and small horns. He could only have supposed that his father (who his mother rarely spoke of) had also been a faun, and perhaps had had the same gift of illusion Tumnus had. He had never suspected that he was anything like a mutant, not until he received a phone call from one Professor Charles Xavier.

“Remarkable.” The professor scribbled down the answer and smiled with delight, looking for all the world like a boy with a new toy. “Not only do you have the physical appearance of a faun, you have the ability to project the illusion of a human body. Do you find this physically draining? Have you always had the power to do this? For that matter, have you always held this appearance? Did any of your parents hold similar mutations?”

Tumnus tried to wrap his head around the rapid-fire questions. “W-well, my mother says I was born with this appearance, and sh-she was about as normal a-as it gets. I never, ah, knew my father, and mother didn’t like to talk about him. I was pretty secluded from society until I was around ten years old, and then I discovered that I could… hide myself. It comes pretty naturally, and I-I’m able to, ah, hold it for long periods of time, though if I become ill or-or tired, my control tends to slip.”

Professor Xavier was writing with fervor now, exclaiming “Amazing!” or “Fascinating!” in equal parts. When Tumnus finished the man seemed almost atwitter with excitement. “I knew that Hank’s mutation was fairly animalistic, but until recently I never have met other mutants born with such physical features. Do you mind if I…” He put his fingers to his temple and gestured.

Tumnus, confused at first, nodded, hoping he covered his nervousness well. He had already been informed that the professor was a telepath, and had been excited to meet someone who had abilities similar to his own, even if Tumnus couldn’t read minds or take control of others' thoughts like the professor could.

Professor Xavier squeezed his eyes shut with focus, a slight frown forming. Tumnus felt an odd sensation in his mind, alien but not unkind. He tried to relax and let it enter, though a small part of his more primal instincts balked against the intruder.

“Remarkable,” Professor Xavier breathed. “Just like Michelos, I’ve never felt something quite like it. Not entirely human, yet not completely animal. As if there was static interference…” He gave a teasing grin. “Though you are much more hospitable than he was.”

Tumnus felt the presence fade out as the Professor’s hand fell. His voice betrayed a light tremor, a bit shaken at the experience. “M-Michelos, Professor?”

Professor Xavier wheeled out from behind his desk, coming to a stop next to him, and placed a comforting hand on Tumnus’ shoulder. Unlike most physical interaction it didn’t startle him, the professor projecting kindness and understanding. “You are no longer alone, Tumnus. There are people here who are going through their own transformations as they begin to understand their powers. And, oddly enough, one of those students holds a mutation very similar to your own.”

“H-how so?” Tumnus asked, nervousness and excitement fighting it out in the base of his stomach at the notion.

“I think it would be best if you saw for yourself.” The professor gripped his metalic wheelchair tires and began to move towards the door.

+++

The first thing Tumnus saw as he entered the room was the fact that it was an absolute mess. Food containers, clothes, trash and dirty plates lay on the ground in a lake of disuse, a small footpath of wooden panels leading to the bed, winding haphazardly along the floor. The second thing he noticed was that the bed, more of a nest of blankets than a proper resting place, contained a man, hungrily gnawing on an ear of corn, and that sight was more than enough for Tumnus to forget all about the room’s abysmal condition.

The man was… muscular. Far more defined than Tumnus’ slight frame, though still lean, almost like a greyhound. His build was made all the more obvious given his current shirtless condition, and despite the fact that Tumnus was in a similar state of dress it made the faun strangely embarrassed and fidgety. The man was wearing khaki pants- thank goodness- though they were unbuttoned and unzipped, allowing for a generous amount of the light trail of hair traveling from his lower abdomen to his… well, traveling downwards, to be shown.

The man left off from gnawing, throwing the cob to the floor and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was undeniably handsome, clean-shaven with clear grey eyes that were directed at Tumnus in an unsettling way. His auburn hair, mostly straight but slightly curled at the ends, went just past his ears. Far tamer looking than his own chestnut curls, Tumnus thought, trying to pay mind to anything but those eyes.

Professor Xavier cleared his throat in a disapproving way. “Michelos, I have asked you to look after your room.” He sounded more like a father than a teacher.

Michelos gave a grin, and it was entirely too much tooth for comfort. “My apologies, Xavier, I’m not used to civilized company I suppose.” His voice was all confidence with an Irish lilt, and despite answering the Professor his eyes were still attempting to capture Tumnus’, who at this point had resolutely decided that the corner of the room needed his attention.

“P-Professor, i-i-if I may ask,” Tumnus stuttered, nearly shaking, “wh-wh-why did you s-say that M-Michelos was similar to me?” He hadn’t really questioned the statement before, but had naturally assumed that the Professor was talking about another mutant with his appearance. Did Michelos hold a power similar to creating illusions?

A clatter of plates caused Tumnus’ gaze to return back to Michelos, who had decided to- with little grace- stand up, and the fact that the man decided to suddenly undress forced him to look away again, meeting the gaze of an equally embarrassed Professor.

Professor Xavier gave a forced smile. “He may not have the social grace to tell you, but Michelos is trying to show you his mutation. Like you, he’s lived most of his life hiding it, though he’s able to physically transform into his human appearance. This, of course, does not allow him your ability of… modesty, when he switches between forms.”

Tumnus couldn’t help but spare a glance with this new information, and was surprised to see coarse, brown fur snaking up the man’s - or no, he wasn’t a man, only he was, they were both mutants, that’s right - legs, his feet forming into hooves. Dark horns, more demonic looking than his own as they curled from the sides like those of a mountain goat, spiraled outwards as his face took on an animalistic look.

And there, standing in front of him, was something far more primal and hungry looking than a faun. No, Tumnus knew exactly which mythological creature he was, or well, that’s not right, what he would be mistaken for. A satyr. And he was stalking towards Tumnus with a look that determined didn’t even begin to cover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing a fanfiction, so rather then be kind, go at it! Tear it apart! I'm trying to improve myself in all ways, so any and all comments/edits are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelos POV

Michelos began a careless trek towards Tumnus, shoulders set as he prowled forward, trash and plates clattering around him. Oh, the poor faun looked positively scared, knees buckling, trembling slightly. The satyr found himself smiling at the sight.

Alas, before he was able to reach the tasty morsel, Xavier swerved forward and raised a hand to his chest. “Calm yourself, my friend. This is _not_ a proper way to make an introduction.”

Oh, did Professor Know-It-All know how to make him _growl_. “I’ll thank you to mind your own business, Xavier,” came his retort, voice like gravel.

That earned him a patronizing raise of the Xavier’s eyebrow. “My student’s comfort _is_ my business, Michelos, and if you can’t behave like a proper gentleman, then I’ll have to confine you from meeting Tumnus until you are ready to do so.”

And, before Michelos was able to tell Xavier just where he could shove his pretentious attitude, there came a surprising, “I-It’s okay, Professor.”

Michelos and Xavier turned to Tumnus, who had backed into the hall. He clopped forward with a determined stance, looking quite adorable as he tried to take charge. “I-I came here to-to-to learn more about my m-mutation. And if Michelos s-shares similar qualities, then we should work together to f-find out more about them.” He licked his lips, a ridiculous shade of red for a male.

Xavier sighed, wheeling back, narrowly avoiding a haphazard tower of plates. “If you insist, but I won’t force you to bear the sight of this mess any longer. We’ll go back to my office-”

“No deal,” Michelos replied, crossing his arms as his long tail flicked angrily back and forth.

The professor pursed his lips. “Then perhaps the parlor, you can’t force Tumnus and me to stand this smell-”

It was obvious that the man wasn’t getting the gist. “Not gonna’ happen, Xavier. Tumnus and I talk privately, or we don’t talk at all.” He wasn’t about to allow the crafty telepath to intrude. It rubbed against his natural instincts. He still remembered how god damn intrusive Xavier had been when he tried to pick inside Michelos’ skull.

Said telepath looked like he was about to protest, but Tumnus walked forward and put his hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “P-perhaps privacy is best for both of us, Professor. It-it is a new experience.” The little faun gave a shaky smile.

Obviously not fooled, Xavier gave a tepid smile in return. He patted Tumnus’ hand, and leaned forward in a confidential way. “If you need anything, give me a shout.” He gestured towards his temple with a wink.

Tumnus gave a quick nod with an, “Of course,” and the nuisance wheeled out with a warning glare and a quick mental, ‘Behave yourself,’ directed towards Michelos. The satyr held back a snort.

Michelos went to shut the door with perhaps a bit more excitement than what was necessary, but damn, it was like Christmas, Easter, and St. Patrick’s Day all rolled into one all the sudden, and he was smelling the most delectable scent he’d ever encountered. He turned and had to admit that Tumnus was as pleasing from the back as from the front. Hair reached up the faun’s spine, as well as the sides of his forearms, and Michelos suddenly had an urge to caress those parts. In fact, he had the urge to rub himself completely against the faun, mingle their scents together. Yes, the idea of Tumnus smelling like him was very appeasing. “ _Because then_ ,” noted some part of him, a very natural, dark part, “ _everyone would know he belonged to me._ ” Once again, he felt himself grinning with excitement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumnus POV

“ _He better not be giving me that unsettling smile again_ ,” Tumnus thought to himself as he surveyed the room. The professor hadn’t been mistaken when he said it was a mess, or that the smell was hard to ignore, especially given Tumnus’ poor sensitive nose. Well, one thing was certain, he wasn’t going to stand around and do nothing about it.

He turned and nearly jumped when he ended up face to face with Michelos. When had the satyr moved? For someone with hooves he sure was quiet when he walked. And… yes, there it was. That predatory grin was on full blast.

“I-I would like to ask you to-to stop s-s-startling me,” Tumnus said, clutching helplessly at his scarf, seemingly his only friend at the moment.

“And what… startles you?” Michelos asked with a cock of his head, the words slipping from his tongue like quicksilver.

Tumnus gave a huffy glare. “I-I think you know w-well what you’re doing!”

“Hmm.” Michelos reached out and stroked the faun’s forearm in an all too familiar manner. Tumnus shivered, eliciting yet another- yes _another_ \- grin from the insufferable beast.

Now really, that would _do_. Mustering up all of his courage, Tumnus set off to give the cocky wanker the scolding of his life, when suddenly Michelos decided that now was a good time lean down and rub his cheek against Tumnus’ neck. Suddenly the poor faun couldn't breath, much less make coherent sounds.

Despite the fact that Tumnus had been trying to deny it, nothing could now cover up how delicious the satyr smelled, despite the stench of the room around them. Not quite like the scents that usually pleased Tumnus, like morning tea or autumn leaves… No, it was headier than that; a combination of sweat, skin, and… something, something that sent a warm feeling pooling down his spine.

Michelos turned his head and thin lips began to lightly run up and down Tumnus’ jaw line. The satyr’s hands were now on the his ribs, rubbing up and down them lightly, sending electric shocks where they touched, and Tumnus wasn’t quite sure he was shivering strictly out of fear now. His eyes closed slightly, half lidded, and a soft sigh escaped his throat. Michelos, obviously pleased by this reaction, returned to attending Tumnus’ neck, giving the pale skin above the wooly scarf a gentle nip.

“Baaaaaaaaa!” Tumnus bleated. “Please, sto- baaaaaaaaa!”

Michelos had begun to use his callused thumbs to rub around the faun’s nipples, and the sensation was terrifying and arousing at the same time. The satyr was biting Tumnus' neck harder now, licking and sucking at the area with great finesse, grabbing him by the waist and forcing their bodies to rub against each other, their chests pressed together as Michelos moved sensually against him, his cock-

His, his cock! Obscenely, horrifyingly unsheathed, it was rubbing against Tumnus’ furred flesh with abandon, the friction causing his eyes to roll back. He felt his own arousal, real and wanting, crashing forward at the movement, his bleating suddenly mingled with obscene moans that he hadn’t realized he could make, his own cock stirring, and suddenly it was all too much.

Tumnus shut his eyes and tightly bit down on the muscled flesh of Michelos’ shoulder, digging in hard enough to bruise. The growl vibrating from the satyr’s chest was enough to make the faun whimper, but he began to sink his teeth down even further, causing Michelos to wince. A faun’s bite was no laughing matter.

Michelos stopped moving, and with a disgruntled grumble allowed Tumnus to separate himself. The faun's face was red, and he felt like he was about to cry, whether from anger or embarrassment he wasn’t quite sure. He glared as the satyr rubbed the abused shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelos POV

“If you do that again, I’ll call the professor here in an _instant_ , you hear me?” Tumnus placed his hands on his hips in what could only be described as an endearing manner.

Michelos was still reeling, confused as to where things had gone wrong. The faun had started to become aroused, of that he was certain. He thought they had been on the same page here.

Tumnus’ eyes glanced downwards and then swiftly to the side. He was blushing a charming shade of red. “For the love of- would you please put that away!”

“What do you expect to happen when you don’t let me finish,” Michelos groused.

“Just- just go sit on the bed and cover it or something! Calm yourself down.” Tumnus fidgeted uncomfortably. “Perhaps it would be best if I left-”

“No.” It was more of a demand than a suggestion.

The strung out faun sighed. “Then get to the bed, and no more grabbing me!” He glared as Michelos complied with another smile, the satyr obviously pleased by the fact that Tumnus had obeyed. “And don’t smile like that!”

He tried to put on a serious countenance and flopped down onto the bed. He patted the spot next to him, inviting Tumnus along.

“No, I don’t think so.” Tumnus still had his arms crossed and started tapping a hoof with agitation. “You’re going to sit there, calm yourself down, and _not get up_ , and I’m going to start cleaning this mess because I can’t think otherwise.”

He raised an eyebrow. Tumnus’ sudden commands would perhaps have had a bit more validity if the faun hadn't followed it up by beginning the domestic chore of cleaning, and admittedly in the favor of the satyr. “ _No matter how much he protests, it seems like he’s comfortable taking the duties of the wife_ ,” Michelos thought to himself as he watched.

Tumnus had grabbed some trash bags that Xavier had brought a few days before, muttering all the while how easy cleaning was and how _certain_ individuals had less then a child’s sense of responsibility if they couldn’t keep their room tidy while imposing on another's house. He grabbed a poker from the fireplace and began spearing garbage.

Michelos took his time to appreciate the view. The faun was forced to bend down with each jab, and his charming tuft of a tail stuck out just a little as he did so. He found the answer to a question he had often asked himself; If he did find another who looked like him, something straight out of lore, would he find them attractive? And, despite the fact that Michelos had only ever had human partners before… he grabbed his cock and began to stroke.

It didn’t take long for Tumnus to notice. “Wh-what are y-you doing?” It was more of a squeak than a question.

Oh, so this was enough to get the faun’s delightful stutter to return. “Well, you told me to calm myself.”

“N-n-not that way! Just, can’t you just, just w-will it away!”

Michelos gave him an incredulous look. “Are you able to just will these situations away?”

“I-I-I,” Tumnus gasped, and it seemed as if his tongue finally got the better of him. He bit at his bottom lip, and it took him a minute to calm himself. “If that’s really the only way, then I’ll leave you alone while you-”

Michelos growled and got to his feet. Before Tumnus had a chance to protest, he declared, “I’ll finish up in the bathroom. You just… keep cleaning.” And it took a lot for him to not grin at the statement.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumnus POV

Tumnus tried to ignore the frustrated bleats– far deeper and throatier than his, that was for sure- that emanated from the bathroom. The tiles made them echo, and the faun’s ears twitched as he tried to tune them out. They seemed to call to his most basic instincts, and he felt his body reacting to them. He had never, even with all his fur, felt so hot and… _bothered_. He found small goose bumps crawling up his arms, and a deep heat at the pit of his stomach. He began reciting Robert Frost poems in an attempt to take his mind off the matter.

Tumnus was halfway through “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” when the heavy oak door slammed open. He had contemplated giving the illusion of his human form, but had been afraid that Michelos would react negatively to that. He was certain- or at least he hoped- that it was the fact that the satyr had finally met another of his kind that had lead to that… more… physical first encounter. Animalistic instincts and all, Tumnus could relate. He remembered the look of disgust on his college friend’s faces the first time he downed an entire can of sardines.

And, honestly, Tumnus had reacted, too, so he couldn’t really blame the satyr. They would just have to both get use to this… smell business. He shuddered to think of the effect it would have on him when they didn’t have the stench of garbage to cover these... pheromones, or whatever.

Michelos stormed out of the bathroom, finally properly sheathed and looking dissatisfied. His piercing gaze fixed on Tumnus, as if he was the cause of the satyr’s annoyance. Which, given what Michelos had in mind in the first place, Tumnus supposed he was. He focused on the task at hand.

He had already moved onto the dishes, the trash bags filled to the brim and sitting by the door, the clothes now packed into the hamper. Sadly, plates involved more bending then he was strictly used to, and his hooves didn’t have much purchase on the wooden flooring. It was a slow process.

Michelos - instead of kindly offering his help - had dropped back on the bed and decided to stare, which really wasn’t helping Tumnus concentrate on not slipping.

His hoof hit a copper object with a clunk, and he picked it up. It was a small cowbell, thin and narrow, hanging on the end of a slender rope.

“Give it here,” Michelos demanded gruffly.

“What, this is yours?” Tumnus shook his head. “You really shouldn’t throw your items on the ground.”

“I liked it there.” Oh, the satyr was nearly pouting at this point. “It’s important to me, so throw it here.”

Tumnus sent it to him with a light toss, and Michelos wrapped it around his neck. What a curious necklace.

“What is that, anyway?” he found himself asking.

The satyr rubbed it with an idle thumb. “My mother gave it to me when I started to transform. I think it was supposed to be a joke.”

“Transform? Into a human, you mean?”

Michelos gave a breathy chuckle. “Oh, no, when I started to transform into my true appearance.” He gestured towards his current physique.

“Oh… oh, so you weren’t… born, like this?” Well, that was… surprising.

“No. I began to shift when I was young though. Probably nine or ten.” Michelos furrowed his brows, trying to remember. “The first time was painful. I remember being frightened. My mother called the doctor, and of course he went on about changelings and the little people.” Another chuckle. “From then on my mother’s pet name for me was her little fair folk.”

“Did you… could you always change back?” Tumnus was trying to keep his hands busy, starting to collect cups now and placing them on trays.

“Into my human body? Oh, aye. It wasn’t easy at first, but it only took me a few days to finally transform back. It got easier with time.”

“But…” He chewed at his lip, straightening with his tray full of cups. “Why transform at all? Why not just stay a human?”

Michelos made a displeased sound in the back of his throat. “It’s not natural, is it? That human form, it doesn’t feel like the real me. This. This is what I truly am. Why should I have to deny that? Though…” He paused there, and his gaze became clouded with some far away memory. “Though, if I had remained human, I doubt Shanigan,” his voice turned bitter at the name, “would have ever found me.”

Tumnus, now finished with the dishes, stood idly by one of the bedposts. “Shanigan?”

“Aye. He was a merchant, a wealthy one. He found me playing in the fields one day in this form. Took an interest in such an oddity.” Disgust smeared his words. “He threatened my family if they didn’t give me to him. I went with him willingly. I was only twelve.”

Somehow, as if caught by his words, Tumnus found himself seated next to Michelos, placing a comforting hand on the other’s forearm. “Oh, how horrible,” he heard himself say. “You were so young.”

Those compelling grey eyes fell onto the faun’s soft blue ones, and it seemed for a second like Michelos was going to lean forward... But, to either Tumnus’ relief or dejection - he wasn’t quite sure - Michelos continued with his story.

“For five years he kept me there, locked up in one of his mansions. I was a pet, an amusement. He would make me play a fucking pan flute at parties.” He started to grind his teeth. “Sometimes he would forget to feed me and I would have to steal from the kitchens. Other times, he would get drunk and start to beat me.”

“What happened, after five years?” Tumnus had bent forward, enthralled by the tale.

Michelos looked delighted, and placed his fingers just under Tumnus’ chin, entangling them with the faun’s scruff of a beard. The satyr leaned closer, his lips barely caressing. “Do you really want to know, Faunling?”

Tumnus, eyes drooping as he stared at the Michelos’ very close lips, nodded softly. The air in the room was already fresher, and the satyr’s scent seemed to waft off him in waves.

“I killed him,” Michelos whispered, his fingers lightly stroking. “I grew, strong and sure, and soon he could no longer beat me, could no longer humiliate me. And so I made sure he would never beat or humiliate anyone else ever again.”

Tumnus shivered, but didn’t feel the need to move. “And…” He licked his lips, and noticed how the satyr followed the movement with his eyes. “And then, what did you do?”

Michelos chuckled. “So willing to dismiss the blood on my hands?”

Those very hands had begun to rub up and down the faun’s biceps, and Tumnus blinked in confusion. Wasn’t this… wasn’t this a bad thing? But, oh, it felt so nice to have Michelos’ warm, dry hands against his skin. He closed his eyes as he replied, “He deserved it, didn’t he? He should have known better. Better than to lock up something wild, something like you.”

And, somewhere along that answer, Michelos had begun to unwrap the faun’s scarf. Obviously pleased, the satyr began to rub his nose along the newly exposed flesh. “Aye, exactly.”

“But…,” and he had a hard time thinking of this question, because Michelos’ hands were beginning to rub against his back. “But what about your family?”

Michelos stiffened, his hands hesitating. “My mother had left, when I came back,” he murmured into the faun’s ear, his hands moving to Tumnus’ shoulders. “No one had any idea, only that my father had died from sickness and she had moved to be with family.” His grip tightened.

“Oh, that’s horrible.” Tumnus found himself slowly wrapping his arms around the satyr’s neck. “Did you ever find her?”

“No.” Michelos’ let out an angry breath. “It took me a few years, but I eventually found the sister she had stayed with. Apparently they had argued, and by then she had traveled to New York. I followed, and I’ve been here for three years now.”

“Oh.” Tumnus had traveled to New York University for a semester abroad, working on his graduate degree in literature. He elected to take a leave after receiving the professor’s phone call. He moved his arms back to his sides, suddenly conscious of the intimacy of their positions. “Why are you here then, at the mansion?”

“Xavier said he would help me find my mother if I came. He claimed it was best for me, but I think he just wants us to be his lab rats.” He grinned down at Tumnus, his hands somehow now on the faun’s hips. “You'd make an adorable lab rat.”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Michelos.” Tumnus tried to look stern but curiosity was getting the better of him. “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“You’re only two years older than I am.” How odd, he had felt as though the satyr had more years on him. And how amazing, the struggles Michelos had had to face, despite being so young.

“Hmm. What about you, Faunling? What’s your story?

“Hmm?” Tumnus had started to droop into Michelos chest, and found it very warm and very broad. He inhaled lightly. “Oh, I was born like this. My mother used to say- baaaaaaaaaaa!”

Michelos had grabbed his rear and was _stroking_ it, of all things!

Tumnus pushed him away, bleating with alarm. “S-s-stop!”

“What’s wrong, Faunling?” Michelos started massaging Tumnus’ back again, rubbing circles with his thumbs, and whispered, “Shh, it’s alright.”

“N-no! I t-t-told you that if you did this again, I-I would leave!” Tumnus struggled to get up, yanking out of the satyr’s grip. “And-and you have, so I’m leaving!”

Michelos gave an accusing glare. “Aren’t you the one who sat next to me? Started to touch me first?” He grabbed the faun’s hips roughly, pulling him closer. “You _want_ this.”

“No, _you_ want this. I was trying to show some _compassion_ , you absolute wanker, and you’ve gone and messed it all up. I want to leave, let go of me!” He pushed and shoved, struggling out of the stronger one's arms. “If you don’t I’ll call the professor this _instant_.”

Not an entirely true statement, Tumnus didn’t really want to explain his current position, but effective none-the-less. Michelos allowed him to stand, collect his scarf with a huff and trot to the door.

He turned with a glare before leaving. “And you better take the dishes and trash out!” And, with a slam, he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumnus POV

“Sardines.”

“Okay, good.” Professor Xavier scribbled down a few notes. He held up another card. “What about this one?”

Tumnus’ new mentor had thought it would be a good idea to administer a psychological analysis, and they currently were on one he called the Rorschach test. It involved pieces of paper with black ink blots splattered on them, and the faun was supposed to state what image he saw. It had something to do with the fact that his mind was difficult to read for the professor. He slowly began to wonder if Michelos was right, and if he was being a guinea pig at the hands of the telepath, but all in the name of scientific discovery he supposed.

“What about [this one](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OEWNrlUA7Gc/SQeu4wTLhzI/AAAAAAAABI0/73evDcC6484/s400/161799065_131d0f99ff.jpg%20)?” Professor Xavier showed yet another card.

“A satyr,” came Tumnus’ reply before he had chance to realize. He bit his lip and looked down.

“Interesting.” The sound of pen against paper echoed within the room. “Most people say that this is a cow skull, or even Satan, but you immediately identified it with Michelos.”

“I wasn’t particularly thinking of _him_ , per se. I’ve just, it’s just, I just really read a lot of lore over the years, given that I originally fancied myself to also be a creature of myth.” It was, after all, why he had gotten into literature in the first place.

He couldn’t help but fidget at the topic of conversation. It had been three days since that first encounter with Michelos, and he had done his best to avoid the sod since, taking to keeping with the professor and taking various tests.

“It’s very interesting, though.” Professor Xavier was still jotting down observations. “You seem to have an almost animalistic mindset. Nearly everything you’ve seen in the cards has to do with nature. I’ve given Hank similar tests and he’s still showed humanistic tendencies in his answers. Very fascinating, indeed.”

“Has he had similar results?” Tumnus asked. “Michelos, I mean,”

The telepath gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I would ask him to participate, but I don’t believe he would take it very seriously. My first few attempts at discussion before you arrived all came to a very… unhelpful conclusion.” He grabbed up his inkblot cards and began to place them back in order. “But I think that we’ve had enough of this for now. I’m sure you’re hungry, feel free to ransack the kitchen.”

Tumnus stood up hesitantly. “Aren’t you going to eat, too, Professor?”

The man gave a careless wave of his hand as he studied his comments. “Oh, I’m sure Hank will bring me something soon. He knows how I get when I have research.”

+++

Tumnus poured milk into the dainty china cup. He had been delighted that Professor Xavier kept a healthy stock of good, English brew. The few times he had decided to try what passed for tea in America he had found himself balking at how much _redder_ it was, something his New York friends had difficulty understanding.

He turned at the sound of the door opening, relaxing a bit when he realized it was Hank. Though he didn’t think that Sean and Alex were exactly bad people, he still remembered the guffaws they had produced when he was first introduced to the group in his true form.

“Oy, what should his code name be? 'Goat Boy'?” Alex had asked with a smirk.

“At least Michelos looks kind of badass when he transforms,” Sean had added.

From that time on Tumnus had taken to projecting his human appearance whenever he wasn’t alone with the professor, an individual he supposed saw through the mental illusion anyway.

Hank, however, had not laughed, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist- something Hank apparently was- to realize why. The mutant opened the refrigerator with a hairy, blue hand. “Just grabbing lunch for the professor. I think he’d starve if it wasn’t for me,” he explained with an awkward grin.

Tumnus shot a shy smile in return. “Yes, I do get that feeling sometimes.” He sipped his tea as a comfortable silence weaved around them.

Hank was halfway through constructing a sandwich before Tumnus started the conversation again. “I was just wondering if you know why he seems so… so odd about Michelos. Professor Xavier, I mean.” The question had been gnawing at him for a while.

Hank paused in his application of mustard. “Oh, that… well.” He shifted from one large, bare foot to the other, his lab coat swishing slightly. “I think it’s because Michelos looks like someone the professor used to know. Or, well, we all used to know, really.”

“Oh?” Tumnus waited for Hank to continue. If nothing else, the faun had patience.

After a few moments Hank began again. “He was a really important friend to the professor. He’s gone now. They kind of had an… argument. Differences of opinion. We don’t talk about him much.”

“Ah.”

Hank started to tear into some lettuce. “So, I think that it makes him uncomfortable, having someone who reminds him of Erik.” He hesitated, but then went on, “His name was Erik, by the way, but I don’t think he goes by that name anymore. Look, to be honest, you really should ask the professor about all this. It has more to do with him than me.”

Tumnus took time to digest this, finishing off his tea as Hank completed Professor Xavier’s lunch. Finally, he said, “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Oh, no problem. You’re one of us now, right?” Hank patted his shoulder, causing the faun to jump and stagger back. The mutant looked at him with confusion. “Wait, I could have sworn I didn’t feel your shirt when I did that just now…”

Tumnus fretted with his scarf, appearing to Hank as if he was rubbing his fingers together. His appearance was currently that of a human with a soft yellow sweater and corduroy pants, his beard neatly trimmed around his chin. All of which was fake, of course. But, if Hank had been so honest with him, he supposed he would return the favor.

“When I appear to be a human, it’s not that I actually physically transform. I mentally project the image,” Tumnus confessed.

“Oh.” Hank seemed stricken at the thought. “I thought you just liked to walk around in your human form inside the house, like Michelos does. I had no idea you were… hiding.”

Tumnus felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Oh god, what if Hank was angry because he also looked different and was somehow insulted that Tumnus wasn’t embracing his true form? Or worse, what if he was jealous that Tumnus could hide away, could pass for a human in public, still able to do so many of the things Hank could never do again?

But when Hank spoke his voice had an apologetic air to it. “I know that Alex and Sean can be a bit… well, let’s be honest, they’re asses most of the time. But you shouldn’t have to hide what you are, especially from us. If we can’t accept each other, I don’t know who will. And…” His voice grew quieter. “Let’s just say I have bad experiences with that, with not excepting yourself for who you are.”

“Oh… well.” Tumnus hesitated, but decided that he had to take the lunge at some point. He allowed the illusion to drop with a bashful look. And there he was, still the same old Tumnus, a lumpy yellow scarf around his neck, an unruly beard and unrulier hair.

Hank beamed, and despite his beastly appearance it was genuinely friendly. He patted Tumnus’ arm with goodhearted nature, and the faun supposed he would have to get comfortable with everyone being a lot more physical than he was used to.

“You never looked better, man.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelos POV

Frustrated didn’t begin to cover Michelos’ mood at the moment. Aggravated? Annoyed? Disgruntled? All adjectives seem to pale in comparison to just how god damn angry he felt at the thought that he had to live in a house with Tumnus’ smell, his presence, his god damn voice drifting down the hall, but not be able to touch, taste, _feel_.

Oh god, the thought of feeling the faun. That alone had given him plenty of ‘quality time’ in the bathroom. Perhaps he was in some kind of heat? He usually had more control than this, though at the moment that wasn’t saying much.

He strolled down the stairs, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. Baths, being constructed as they are, generally required him to shift into his human form in order to use them. He had currently taken to sneaking into Xavier’s private bathroom during the day- it was far more extravagant than the one in his own room- and had just finished with a long soak and a good wank. And if the idea of wanking in the professor’s tub was seen as a big fuck you to the telepath, well, Michelos wasn’t going to deny it.

He was about to step into his room when he noticed Hank walking towards him, a lunch tray in hand. Though Michelos never felt hostility from the other beast like man, their few conversations had made him come to the conclusion that they didn’t share very many life viewpoints. He gave a clip nod of acknowledgment, when suddenly a startling smell drifted towards him.

Tumnus’ scent… _mixed_ with Hank’s.

The satyr stood, almost stupefied, as the mutant walked past with a silent nod in return.

Yes, it was unmistakable. Even with his inferior human nose he could smell it, wafting lightly from Hank. Not strong enough to speak of heavy petting, but just enough to tell of a light touch. Perhaps even something as vile as a kiss.

Michelos stalked to the kitchen. First he would find Tumnus. Then, depending on what came to light, he would decide whether he would murder Hank.

+++

Michelos opened the kitchen door gently, deciding that it wouldn’t do to make accusations or to frighten Tumnus before finding out the truth. Or, more likely, it was the fact that he wanted to sneak up if possible. It wouldn’t do for the blighter to take off trotting.

The need for silence forced him to keep his human shape, wooden panels and hooves not exactly making for discreet entrances. He took off his khakis, laid them on the ground outside, and listened at the door. The light clinking of spoon in cup signaled that his Faunling was still there.

He opened the door slowly, peering into the room. The fates would have it that Tumnus was currently facing away, elbows resting lightly on the counter top. Though he supposed the faun’s day-to-day appearance didn’t change much, Michelos noticed that he had switched his red scarf for a far lumpier yellow one. The idea of wearing any items of clothing, especially when inside, was baffling to the satyr, but he couldn’t help but find the idea of Tumnus’ having a scarf collection adorable.

Speaking of adorable… his gaze fixated on the faun’s little tail, far shorter than his own. The sight of it gave him a wicked idea. He treaded lightly towards Tumnus. When he reached his destination, just behind the faun, he gave the appendage a playful tug.

“Baaaaaaaaaaa!” Tumnus bleated, jumping a few inches and turning quickly.

Michelos gave a hearty laugh at the sight of the faun, eyes huge and arms splayed out, clutching the counter for dear life.

“D-d-don’t do that!” Tumnus cried, far too busy shivering to even attempt a glare.

Michelos leisurely held onto the counter, entrapping Tumnus in his arms. He began to transform, wanting the faun to feel the full effect of what he was about to do. He inhaled deeply, moving his head as he tried to catch a scent. There, on Tumnus’ arm. The smell was coming from there.

Tumnus looked in between terrified and inquisitive. Michelos had noticed the curious looks before, when he had first shifted between human and beast. They held a different quality than Xavier’s, less searching for answers and more searching for… something, something else.

Finally finished- and a good deal taller from the change- he began to rub his face against the offending bicep, eliciting a cry of protest from the faun.

Michelos glowered. “Why do you smell like Hank?”

“W-what?” There was genuine confusion in those soft blue eyes. “I, well, he p-patted my arm just awhile ago. He was trying to be friendly… I think.” The faun’s features took on a drunken glaze as his words began to slur.

“Hmm.” Michelos was pleased by the quick answer, but less so with how easy going his Faunling seemed about allowing others to lay a hand on him. “Don’t let it happen again.” Tumnus was _his_ , no one else’s. No one else was allowed to touch.

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t like I wanted to…” The faun’s voice grew softer. “I don’t want other people to touch me...”

Michelos growled in satisfaction.

Tumnus shook his head. “Wait… wait, something is…” He seemed to come to his senses, his eyes widening in embarrassment. “Get off of me!” He pushed at the satyr’s chest. “I warned you about this before, didn’t I? And you _planned_ this, I know it.”

Michelos halted his snooping and decided it would be best to back off. He could blame the jealousy for clouding his judgment, but it wouldn’t do to have the faun dislike him even further. He held up his hands as a sign of surrender.

“Okay, Tumnus. We don’t have to… touch, if you don’t want.” Oh, did that sting to say. “But you can’t keep ignoring me.”

The faun puffed up. “And why shouldn’t I? You’re the one who came at me the first time we met, erection first!”

Michelos scratched the back of his neck. “Admittedly that was… I can see how that could be startling.”

“ _Startling_!?”

“And I would just like to say that I’m sorry for my actions.”

Tumnus, seemingly surprised by this sudden apology, stared in a shocked silence for a minute. Finally, he said, “Oh.”

Michelos scratched his chin. “So, with that out of the way-”

“Why did you do it then?”

The satyr furrowed his eyebrows. “I wanted you. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Tumnus rubbed the back of his neck and looked pointedly away. “But… but why would you want _me_?”

It took a moment for Michelos’ to comprehend, but when he did he felt pity. “Do you really think so little of yourself?” he asked softy.

Tumnus scoffed. “I’m not under any illusions about my looks, despite my mental abilities. Especially when I have this appearance.”

“So do you think me revolting, then, when _I’m_ in this form?”

“I,” Tumnus began. He licked his lips, and Michelos found his eyes drawn to the movement. “I don’t know.”

The satyr snorted. “If I didn’t think you were beautiful, Faunling, I wouldn’t have shown interest.” He felt uncomfortable with the thought that Tumnus saw himself as unsightly, especially when the satyr would be the first to attest to his attractiveness. Even if Michelos had been human he would have seen himself fall for those blood red lips, those soft blue eyes, that round, hirsute arse….

“No one has ever called this form beautiful before,” the faun near whispered, his ears turning red.

“What? That can’t be right. Even humans couldn’t be as blind as _that_. You probably just haven’t shown enough people.” Not that Michelos himself had exactly flaunted his beastly appearance, but his family had never shown anything but delight when he presented them with his true form, all those years ago.

Tumnus seemed to think for a minute. “Lucy said I was ‘down right adorable,’ but it’s not the same thing, really.”

“Lucy?” Michelos’ eyes narrowed. Who was this woman, and why had Tumnus let her see his form?

A genuine smile lit up the faun’s face. “A neighbor girl who I’ve recently befriended, back home in England. She had the uncanny ability to see through my illusions. I held a theory that she was developing some sort of magical ability, but since learning of mutations I can only assume that to be the cause. She’s one of my greatest friends.”

The idea of his Faunling becoming close to a woman made Michelos’ grey eyes sharpen. “And do you have… feelings for her?”

Tumnus looked mortified. “Oh! Oh, heavens no. She’s only a child, turning nine soon I believe.” He gave a quick chuckle. “She was so miffed when I told her that I couldn’t show myself to her brother Edmund, who apparently called her a liar when she claimed that their neighbor was a faun. Dear me, it sounds like a children’s book, doesn’t it?”

Tension eased from the satyr’s back. “She sounds nice.”

“Oh, she really is an utmost delight.” Tumnus seemed to be in a jovial mood all of a sudden. “I used to have her over for tea quite often. I’ve been writing her letters because there aren’t many landlines in the country, even now. She’s still practicing with spelling, but she can read quite beautifully. She’s very advanced for her age, I think. She even knitted me this scarf before I left.” He was near swelling with pride at this point. “In fact, I shall have to write her tonight and inform her of my new residence.”

Michelos leaned against the table and nodded as Tumnus chattered on.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some light urination play? It's really not as bad as it sounds...
> 
> Tumnus POV

“Baaaaaaaaa,” Tumnus bleated softly, shivering in Michelos’ arms. He felt the bark’s grooves press into his back, and tossed his head side to side as if waking from a deep sleep, his eyes becoming drowsy as he panted into the satyr’s chest. A thin sheen of perspiration was beginning to coat his skin.

Michelos licked the sensitive area where the faun’s small horns met flesh, grinning as Tumnus moaned at the action. “You have such tiny horns, Faunling.” He kissed them both, and rubbed up and down the length of their cocks.

Gods, despite being callused those fingers felt so damn… _good_. 

“ _Or perhaps_ ,” came a naughty thought, “ _that’s why they feel good…_ ”

“N-not... not fair,” gasped Tumnus. 

“Hmm?” 

“Yours are just…” He bit his bottom lip as Michelos bucked his hips forward, causing the satyr’s cock to ride up against his own, holding back a whimper. “Just so _big_.” 

Tumnus grabbed them as if to demonstrate, his eyes now locked forward, half-lidded.

Michelos leaned in with his signature toothy grin, his lips barely a fraction from Tumnus’. “Don’t worry,” he near purred. “I’ll help you get use to the size.”

+++

“Has anyone seen Michelos?” Professor Xavier asked, looking around as if the satyr was hiding behind one of the dining room curtains.

The collected mutants shook their heads no.

The professor’s sigh seemed sincere. “I was hoping, for once, that we could all be together for dinner. I told him what time to be here.”

Tumnus squirmed in his seat. “If you want, I can collect him Professor,” he volunteered wearily.

Professor Xavier pursed his lips. “I thought that you and him weren’t…” He seemed to try to phrase himself politely. “Weren’t on very good terms, at the moment.”

Tumnus gave a bashful look to the plate in front of him. “We started to talk recently. And I don’t suppose anyone else wants to collect him?” He looked around the table and no one met his eyes. Alex and Sean were far too lazy volunteer, and Hank was busy finishing up with dinner.

Alex jabbed Sean in the ribs, eliciting a soft protest that he ignored. “No big surprise goat boy over here is suddenly all over ‘fetching’ Michelos,” he mockingly stage whispered.

“Yeah, I guess goats of a… goats of a…” Sean concentrated for a long moment. “Goats of a _can_ really do get together!”

Not even Alex gave that joke a chuckle.

“Get it? Cause goats eat cans…”

Tumnus began to regret his decision of not projecting his human appearance, if this was the type of attention it brought him.

Professor Xavier spoke up. “Alex, Sean, I’ve already talked to you about courtesies with others mutations. If you act like this around Tumnus, I dread to think how you’ll behave when we recruit new members.”

“What, not like they can look much weirder than Hank and Tumnus,” Alex protested.

“Perhaps, but we don’t know that yet. There could be all matter of physical mutations out there. Why, imagine, they could have silver skin, metal claws, even wings!”

Tumnus stood up before the professor began another lecture of the possibilities of human mutation. “I’ll go collect him, it’s really no trouble. Could you perhaps…” He made a fleeting gesture to his temple.

“Hmm? Oh, of course.” The telepath had to concentrate only a moment. “He’s in the back yard, just a little beyond the tree line. Shouldn’t take you too long if you walk quickly.” He sent a mental image of the area.

“Oh, I think I should be able to sniff him out,” Tumnus assured.

He trotted out quickly to avoid the sniggering.

+++

Really, Tumnus supposed, the whole process had been quite backwards. First inappropriate groping, then mutual masturbation, and _now_ they kiss?

But, oh, what a thing that kiss was. Michelos seemed to possess his mouth, thin lips crushing readily into his red ones. The satyr gave a playful nip, causing him to cry out in surprise. A greedy tongue pushed its way in, and began to intertwine with his. 

Tumnus had never experienced a kiss like _this_ before. Chaste pecks from playful friends, sure, but he had never… he could never let someone get this close before. Least a groping hand grab hold of his furred rear, much like the satyr was doing now. 

Michelos began to suck on his tongue, causing Tumnus’ back to arch, and he whimpered into that commanding mouth. The satyr’s hand quickened its pace.

+++

“There you are! The Professor told you that we’re having dinner!” Tumnus huffed, bent over double. He had trotted all the way there, and was currently cursing himself for not taking advantage of the facilities while in the house, and for gulping down several glasses of water waiting on dinner.

“Well, don’t you look sweet, all flustered.” Michelos was lounging against a tree in his satyr form, crunching on an apple he had found God knows where.

Tumnus put hands to hips. “You’re going to ruin your dinner that way. Now come along.” He fidgeted, rubbing his thighs together, just slightly.

_Did he notice?_

Michelos smirked. 

_Damn._

“Have to take a piss, Tumnus?” the wanker teased.

The faun’s maddening blush probably lessened the glare he gave in return. “That is absolutely none of your business, Michelos.”

The satyr lazily tossed the apple core and began to jaunt forward. Tumnus took a step back before he realized what he was doing. Soon they were barely a foot apart, Michelos either unknowing or uncaring about such concepts as personal space. He swept an arm out. “We’re alone, aren’t we? In the middle of a forest, even. Why not just piss here if it’s bothering you so much. I hear even _humans_ find that acceptable.”

“W-what, here?” He couldn’t stop the stutter as he balked at the idea.

“Why not?” Michelos raised an eyebrow. “We’re both men, or male anyway. Haven’t you pissed in front of another man before?”

He looked down. “No…” he whispered.

“What?”

“No, alright! I have never… done that, in front of another person before.”

Michelos stood shocked for a moment, and then began howling with laughter. Tumnus gave the ground an angry frown. 

The satyr seemed close to tears. “You mean, never? Not even in the Men’s?”

The faun’s eyes shot up, hesitantly. “Of course not! I don’t think you’ve noticed but, given my true anatomy, the acts takes a bit more then pulling down a fly. It’s hard to… to-to illu-illusion s-something like _that_ …” His voice drained down as his color rose.

Michelos had stopped laughing and was now giving him a considering look. “I suppose. I never looked at it that way.” He clapped his hands. “Well, no time like the present. Whip it out, Tumnus.”

“I just told you-!”

“That you’ve never done it before, right. Doesn’t mean you never can. Together we’re going to be trying a lot of things you’ve never done before. So, why not start now.” His words seem to hold a dangerous meaning.

Tumnus licked his lips, unsure. Perhaps this would be good for him. It had been a phobia of his for a long time, things involving his… genitals. He began to ponder the implications.

Michelos was not to be a patient man in the best of circumstances, so it was hardly surprising when he grabbed Tumnus by the arm and twirled him around, forcing the faun to lean into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“H-hey! Wh-wh-what-!”

Michelos began to rub the faun’s groin, and whispered in his ear, “Come on.” The satyr’s cowbell necklace dug into his neck. “You need to let go of your humanity sometimes, Faunling.”

Damn it, this close the smell was able to finally get to him. That first wave sent him in a drunken haze, and he felt his eyes go languid, his shoulders slacken as the boiling feeling in his lower stomach began to churn. “Well you… are entirely too animal like,” he managed to get out. Despite- or perhaps because of- everything, he felt himself harden.

“Well then, we both have to work on something, hmm? Find that point, between animal and humanity.” Michelos grabbed Tunmus' cock and began to send slow, long strokes along it.

“N-no… Don’t rub it.” Tumnus knew he sounded childish, almost whining.

The satyr fingered his slit, making him whimper, the motion enough to startle him out of his bewilderment. With a frightened cry he attempted to pull the hand away. Michelos grabbed both his thin wrists with one hand, holding them together.

“Not yet, Faunling.” Michelos set a punishing pace. “You have to finish. It’s not healthy to keep it in,” he taunted.

Tumnus’ knees rubbed as he tried to keep himself under control. “S-stop it!” He was tearing up now, his face burning with shame. He would not… he could not, could not urinate in front of this man!

Michelos began to kiss along the faun’s neck. “Come on, out with.”

“N-no.” If Tumnus had a shred of dignity left, he wouldn’t let Michelos _bully_ him into doing this when he didn’t want to.

“Yes.” And with that, Michelos bit down on the faun’s neck, hard.

Tumnus cried out, shocked at the pain, and felt himself release.

+++

The strokes were becoming sticky, pulling at Tumnus’ responsive skin in a way that was now bordering from fantastic to unpleasant. Michelos let up from rubbing long enough to shove a hand under Tumnus’ mouth. “I want you to spit again.”

“A-again? B-but…” The crazy pace of being forced to urinate- an annoying fact that somehow he wasn’t quite, at the moment, able to truly feel angry about- and then forced up against a tree while another man- or satyr, or whatever- started rubbing his hypersensitive cock had been more then enough for him not to question the first time Michelos had ordered it, but now that he didn’t have the distracting feeling of his first hand job he was able to think I little more clearly.

Michelos growled with impatience, his hips grinding forward once more, the satyr’s cock stimulating his own, the cowbell clanking at the motion. Tumnus felt himself whimper, but whether he wanted Michelos to continue or stop he didn’t…

Oh, fuck it, he did know. 

“Do that again,” he begged.

That stopped the growling in its tracks. Michelos grabbed the faun’s arse with both hands, and now having a firmer grip, thrust forward again; another clank from the necklace. “Like that?” the satyr asked with a pleased smirk.

“Yes, just like that.” He was moaning the words at this point, his forehead pressed against Michelos’ collarbone, his horns jabbing into the satyr’s skin. “Do it like that.” 

But Michelos had strangely calmed down. “Tell me what you want, Faunling.” The satyr began to rub their hips together lightly, almost teasingly. One hand went to stroke Tumnus’ hair. “Say it.”

Tumnus struggled to press himself against the satyr’s muscled body, but Michelos held him down firmly. He was almost sobbing with want now, but his shame was hard to swallow. “I want you to… t-to…”

“Come on, Faunling. I’ll give you everything you want. Anything. But you have to tell me. I want to hear you say it,” Michelos whispered in his ear, almost gently, the satyr’s hips sliding softly up and down.

“I want you to…” He was crying in earnest now, shivering, tears falling hotly. His tongue couldn’t seem to work around his sobs. “Please… please don’t make me say it. Michelos, please.”

But the satyr wouldn’t let up. “Shh, it’s okay.” Michelos stroked his back. “I’m here, it’s okay. You can say it. Let go of your humanity, Faunling. Let your animal half take over. What does it want? What do _you_ want?”

“I-I want. I want.” He swallowed, willing the tears to stop. Willing the shame to disappear. He closed his eyes, and the words seem to pour out of him. “I want you to grind your cock against me…” he whispered.

Like a rubber band stretched too far, all of Michelos’ control seemed to snap at that one moment. The satyr forced Tumnus up against the tree, kissing him wildly, praise falling from Michelos’ lips as he ground forward with abandon, the necklace’s clatter now ringing out. Oh, what a good Faunling he was, what a beautiful creature, his, all his.

Tumnus wrapped his arms around the satyr’s neck, kissing back just as eagerly, happily receiving the admiration, allowing himself to get lost in the emotion, grinding his hips forward to meet Michelos’ own. 

It only took a few moments for the faun to cut off from kissing. “M-Michelos. I’m going to… I’m going to…”

“Then do it.” The satyr began to gnaw at his neck savagely, creating bruises that would take weeks to fully heal.

“Wait.” He put his hand to the side of Michelos’ face, forcing those grey eyes to meet his blue ones. “I want us to do it together. I want us to come together.”

“Fuck.” Michelos kissed him then, as if the satyr was trying to seize him at that moment.

Tumnus’ hips arched forward, and his vision seemed to fill with a white blaze at that one moment. He gave a single cry that seemed more animal then human, and the satyr matched it with a bestial howl of his own. Hot come splattered on the faun's belly.

Tumnus slumped forward against Michelos, his limbs becoming numb, the satyr’s support the only reason he hadn’t fallen over. If sex could give him anywhere near this feeling of satisfaction, he felt like asking the satyr to carry him back to the mansion and take him right then. And, with that one thought, he gave a distressed bleat.

“Professor Xavier,” he panted, “is expecting us… at dinner by now… He sent me to fetch you.” A horrified thought over came him. “Oh… what if he’s looked… for us? What if he saw us?”

Michelos, gasping for breath himself, gave a wheezy chuckle. “Then I hope he enjoyed the show.”

Tumnus gave an offended glare, and his breath finally returned to him. “How dare you joke about that? Look at us, we’re a complete mess. There’s no way we can- baaaaaa!”

Michelos had picked him up mid sentence, and was now carrying the faun in his arms.

Tumnus clung to his neck. “Warn me before you do that! Wait, no, I mean, put me down! This instant!”

The satyr began to walk back towards the manor, and gave the command a snort in reply. “You can barely stand, much less walk. And I don’t want anyone coming out to check on us while you’re in this state.” Michelos slowly dragged his eyes over Tumnus’ ravaged body. “Besides, didn’t you say they would be worried about us?”

“I didn’t say anything of the kind- mmff.”

Michelos cut him off with a muffling kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles POV

Charles tapped his glass of water with growing impatience. Perhaps if he just… no, no, he had already told himself he wouldn’t do that. He had to trust that Michelos wasn’t doing anything… unwanted towards Tumnus. He wasn’t going to invade their privacy by searching out their minds.

“Come on, can’t we just start without them? The food’s already getting cold,” Sean asked, again, loudly.

Charles didn’t need his telepathic powers to sense that the dinner table was becoming impatient waiting on the two newest members arrival. Alex was sending heady waves of anger, and it was obvious he was about to take his plate and stalk out.

“ _Well, three out of five isn’t bad_ ,” Charles thought to himself. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want us to starve, as you are clearly about to Sean.” He highlighted the joke with a confident smile, masking his underlying apprehension. 

Everyone had barely gotten in two forkfuls before Michelos, currently transformed into his satyr appearance, opened the door. 

“Oi, don’t wait for me then,” he announced to the table with mock hurt.

Charles gave his most professorly disappointed look. “Michelos, you’re late. You can’t expect us to wait on you.” He looked past the satyr into the hallways. “Where’s Tumnus? I sent him to get you.” Had they missed each other?

Michelos gave a non-too-innocent smirk. “Oh, he’s feeling under the weather all the sudden. I came to grab him his dinner.” With that he trotted to the table, nearly bouncing with energy, and set two glasses of water on his and Tumnus’ plates.

Charles frowned. “What, is he sick? He seemed fine before he left.”

Michelos shrugged. “I guess the summer heat got to him when he was outside. Probably just exhaustion, nothing a good lie down won’t recover.” The statement seemed to make his eyes light up in excitement.

Charles puckered his lips. “Nice of you to grab his dinner then, but surely that doesn’t mean you can’t eat with us?”

Michelos held a dramatic hand to his heart. “Oi, and leave the poor lad to eat by himself? I do have a heart, Xavier.” He grabbed the two plates, balancing them perfectly in a way that bespoke a waiter’s experience. Charles vaguely remembered the satyr talking of multiple bar jobs.

“Best be off then, don’t want him to nod off without supper.” The words seem strangely sincere, and he waltzed out before Charles could make further comment.

“Since when does Michelos give two flying fucks if Tumnus goes to bed with dinner?” Alex asked.

“Language please,” Charles reminded him. “And perhaps he’s started to bond with Tumnus, like I’ve been asking all of you to do.”

“Perhaps they’ve bonded more then you think,” put in Hank, too quiet for anyone but Charles to hear, looking down at his plate as he stabbed his fork through some green beans. “He walked the wrong direction to be going to Tumnus’ room.”

Whatever did that mean? Charles decided that he would give a low mental sweep of the manor, just to make sure that Michelos had been telling the truth. He sent his mind flowing in the direction of Tumnus’ room, and was disgruntled to find it empty. He cast his net further, searching for Michelos, and found the satyr to have just entered his own room where… there was the unmistakable presence of Tumnus, lying in the bed, sending up annoyance, exhaustion, but also apprehensive joy and…

And with that, Charles quickly drew back the mental line, controlling himself just in time to stop the blush that was threatening to appear.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelos POV

Michelos shifted in his seat, his arms crossed in an irate manner, his legs splayed out before him. Xavier was uneasily shuffling papers, and the silence hung thick between them.

He had been in a good mood before he had been called down to the professor’s office. The past two days had been going exceedingly well. Tumnus no longer hid from him, and had even on several occasions allowed him to cop a feel, though those had been hurried affairs. 

Tumnus somehow felt _obligated_ to Xavier, and had agreed to under go physical testing involving endurance. Michelos had offered for the tests to be conducted in other ways- most which could be performed in the comfort of the bedroom- but Tumnus had stubbornly denied him, blushing that intoxicating shade of red and almost mustering up a lecture before the satyr had cut him off with another kiss.

Xavier’s tests apparently involved a good part of the day, and had been followed up by mental training as well. The end result was a sore and sleepy Tumnus, up for no more then the chastest of kisses before heading to bed. And sharing the same bed was yet another pleasure Tumnus had adamantly denied him.

So it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t exactly pleased with Professor Killjoy when Hank had woken him up that morning at 10 fucking am and told him to head down to Xavier’s office.

The telepath cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Michelos, I thought that you would want to know immediately. I just received the call this morning, and I felt it best to wake you up.”

Michelos growled. “You’re stalling, Xavier. Just tell me what it is.” He paused. There was no one who knew where he currently was. He had told his friends in the city that he was going on a vacation, little else. “Is it about my mother?” He couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice. He knew that Xavier had hired an investigator.

“Ah, well, yes. You see… oh, my, how do I say this. You see…” And the look in Xavier’s eyes was all the confirmation that he needed.

“She’s dead.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement.

Xavier didn’t seem to be able to find his voice. So, instead, the telepath sent a mental, _I am so sorry, my friend_.

And somewhere, a deep childish thought came to him. “ _You promised. You promised you would find her. You gave me hope, more hope then I had in years, and you lied._ ”

And even though Michelos was aware at just how naive, and just how unfair that thought was, he couldn’t help but feel anger boiling within his bones.

“Michelos, if I had known, I-”

But he cut Xavier off before the telepath could wax sympathies. “How long?”

Xavier sorted through some papers. He had apparently taken notes. “She developed pneumonia on the ship ride when she crossed over seas. Apparently she was dead upon arrival. I asked about a grave, but given her unknown status and the fact that she traveled alone, it’s likely it would be unmarked…”

 _If she was buried at all_ , came the unbidden thought. She could have easily been thrown into the sea when she was found dead. He had seen it before, when he had traveled over the Atlantic. He had thought it was a practical way to stop disease from spreading. It was only now that he realized how cruel the practice it was.

And that knowledge, the knowledge that he would never see his mother again, not even to place flowers by her grave side, came rushing like a dark chasm over his being.

He stood and left the room, and Xavier didn’t move to stop him.

+++

Michelos slumped under the spreading branches of a great oak. He took another long sip, straight from the bottle he had filched from Xavier’s cellar. It was high quality stuff, heady and rich. Nothing like the watered down crap he usually served while working his many bar tending gigs. A traveler’s lifestyle and a cocky attitude had made sure he had multitude of experiences to draw from, and he knew he was currently guzzling a wealthy man’s wine.

Despite the tolerance he had built over the years his head was swimming by this point. It hadn’t been a small bottle, and he hadn’t gone about draining it slowly. He let the haze envelop his mind, grateful for how it covered his emotions like a sturdy tarp.

He had long ago changed into his satyr form. For some reason he always felt more at peace with this appearance. It was if his animal tendencies could cover up human thoughts. So what if his mother was dead? People died. That’s what they all do. Hell, he’d die some day. There was nothing to do but drink to her memory. He tipped the bottle slightly upwards, raising his eyes to the sky as if to show his offerings.

And that was when Tumnus decided to make his arrival.

Usually the mouthwatering scent of his Faunling's sent him in a quick fever of want, but anguish and alcohol covered that sensation. He could only really muster up a stupid grin as Tumnus stepped into view.

The faun was even worse than Xavier at hiding his emotions. It was obvious he knew. 

“I’m so sorry-” Tumnus began.

“’Ow bout you come ‘ere, si’ down, and ‘ave a nice drink with me, Faunlin’.”

Tumnus hesitated for a second- he did that thing where he rubbed his scarf between his fingers, like he always did when he was nervous- before heading over and taking a seat, far enough that they weren’t in contact, but close enough that Michelos could reach out and touch if he so choose. He passed the bottle of wine instead.

Tumnus huffed. “Really, straight from the bottle-”

“If it’s goo’ enough fo’ me, is goo’ enough fo’ you.” And the way he said it really didn’t leave much room for argument, even for Tumnus, who took a tentative sip.

Michelos almost felt surprise that the faun didn’t cough or wince. Perhaps Tumnus wasn’t as straight laced as he had gathered.

“This isn’t a very productive way to deal with sorrow,” the not-so-straight-laced faun mumbled.

He snorted. “An’ what, you know ‘ow to deal with sorrow then, Faunlin’?”

Tumnus sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, before replying with a frank, “No,” and took another swig from the bottle. 

The uncomfortable quiet between them soon grew too heavy for the faun to bear. “You can cry, you know,” he said. “Even Achilles cried, when Patroclus died.”

Michelos laughed, but it had a bitter feeling to it. He leaned his head against the tree and looked upwards. “I don’ know if you realize, Faunlin’, but we’re no Greeks, no matter what we look like.”

“It’s not about nationality, it’s about being a man. You don’t need to not cry to be a man.”

The satyr grabbed angrily at the bottle of wine, and finishing it off in three impressive gulps gave a satisfied sigh. “Besides, I knew it a’ along. Tha’ she was dead. Somehow, I knew it. So, no’ too surprising, ya see.”

Tumnus didn’t know how to respond to that, so he did the only thing he could think of. He moved close to Michelos and rested his head on the satyr’s shoulder, clasping their hands together.

Michelos placed his head atop of Tumnus’ and closed his eyes, a pained grimace clouding his face. They stayed like that, watching the falling sun for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god guys, this was so sad to write. [Cosmic Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfBY96qxVRQ) by Florence and the Machines came on when I was typing and I nearly cried. God, why am I such a horrible person D;


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelos POV

Tumnus had somehow convinced Michelos to go back to his room to eat some dinner that the faun brought, and, at this point, he had generally sobered up. Not that that was a good thing, mind, but he didn’t think that Tumnus would let him be drunk for the next few days, and he guessed he had to deal with his issues in some other fashion.

Apparently Tumnus had figured- though he seemed mighty shy as he did so- that physical gestures were the best forms comfort right now, and was currently rubbing his small, pale horns against where Michelos’ own horns melded with flesh. The satyr found himself dipping his head in return, closing his eyes in the intimacy of the movement.

Tumnus paused a moment to kiss him, a chaste peck, and with a start he realized it was the first time the faun had initiated an action between them. Had their dealings always been so one sided? Michelos felt at a loss for what to do now. He felt no desire, only need of reassurance, and so he took the slighter man in his arms and held his Faunling against his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he near begged.

Tumnus stiffened in his arms.

“No, not like that.” God, wasn’t he the one who was suppose to have the dirty mind? “Just sleep, that’s all. I don’t… I don’t want to sleep alone, tonight.”

Tumnus looked up, those soft blue eyes wide with compassion. He nodded softly. “Okay. It’s getting pretty late. Do you want to sleep now?”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

They laid upon the bed, side by side, facing one another. Neither found much use for blankets when the house was already so warm. Michelos idly caressed the side of Tumnus’ face, and the faun allowed himself to be caressed, his eyes half lidded.

Michelos left off petting. “Talk to me, Faunling.”

“And what do you want to hear?” Tumnus gave a tinkling laugh. “You’ve already shown a dislike of the Greeks, and I’m afraid that is where my concentration lies.”

“Not a story, then. Tell me about you.”

A nervous frown shadowed Tumnus' face, and he shifted his shoulders as if to get more comfortable. “What do you want to know?”

Michelos took a moment to consider. “Everything, I suppose.”

Tumnus scoffed. “Oh, well, everything, we’ll be here all night.”

“We already were going to be."

“Hmm… well, I suppose I’ll cover the basics, shall I?” The faun licked his very red lips, and the satyr had to resist the urge to kiss them. “I don’t know who my father is, but my mother was a woman of good family and wealth. Despite having me, she was able to enter into a good marriage.”

“And he accepted you then, this man?” Though unspoken, it was obvious to both of them that he was referencing Tumnus’ mutation.

The faun gave a tart laugh. “Oh, no. I think he doubted I existed at first. You see my mother had been very clever when she had me. She told everyone I had a weak body, so frail that any small disease would kill me. So she had a nurse take care of me constantly, and I was not allowed to leave my room, and no one else was allowed to see me.”

Michelos growled, “She sounds like a bitch.”

“She was-,” Tumnus began, but cut himself short and gave an apologetic smile. “But I’m getting off track, now aren’t I? So, I was not allowed to leave the house, nor my room when my stepfather was home, which luckily wasn’t often. My parents loved to travel, and were often gone from my house.”

“You never went outside, then?” The fate seemed too cruel for such a gentle creature as his Faunling.

“Oh, I was allowed to use the courtyard when I was younger. And later on,” and Tumnus gave a teasing smile, “when I was five or so, my nurse came up with a clever idea so that she could go into town without leaving me alone. She fashioned up a pair of boots, put me in a long, frilly dress, popped a bonnet on my head, and told everyone in town that I was her daughter.”

A deep chortle came deep from the satyr’s chest. The very idea of the faun in a dress and bonnet, being paraded around town as a little girl, was very pleasing indeed.

Tumnus pouted his lips. “It was the only way I could pass as a human, back then. She couldn’t exactly put me in trousers, now could she?”

“Oh no, Faunling.” He rubbed the offended faun’s neck with long fingers. “I’m sure you made quite the pretty lassie.”

Tumnus rolled his eyes, but let the comment pass. “Well, leaving that off, it was obvious that I still didn’t make many friends. Nana- that’s what I called my nurse- only let me come with her sometimes, because if it was ever revealed… well, you can surely see the fuss it would make. But then, when I was ten, a marvelous thing happened. I was able to make people see a different me- a human me. And after it worked on Nana, and the tutor, and my mother, I was finally able to attend school. I lived a fairly normal life from that point on.”

And Tumnus paused here, with a hesitating look.

“Oh come on, what could be worse then cross dressing?” Michelos said.

“Well… when I was eighteen I was accepted into university. And, when I was nineteen… when I was nineteen, my parents died.” And even though his voice had grown softer, it held not a trace of sorrow.

“Oh.” There was a poignant pause on the Michelos' part. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Tumnus gave a scoff. “What, because you recently found out of your own mother’s passing? Oh, my friend… You see, there is one large difference between us. You loved your parents, your family. And I, well… I did not. Even after I could see my stepfather, he never showed any love of me. And, though my mother tried to keep up appearances, there was never any closeness between us either. I can honestly say I did not weep a tear the day I learned my parents had died, and not because I felt I would lose my manliness if I did so,” he ended, dryly.

Tumnus went on before Michelos had a chance to speak. “And so I continued my studies, because my inheritance allowed me to do so, and I stayed in my house during the summer, because I couldn’t be bothered to sell it until I graduated and received a university post. And, when I go home, it’s to that large house I will return. And that’s… that’s that, I suppose.”

“What about your nurse?”

“Oh, Nana was fired when I discovered my power. It’s not really proper for a grown boy to have a nurse, now is it? She moved back with family and received a pension, most likely on the part of my mother to buy her silence. I continue that pension, for more honorable reasons of course, and she visits occasionally, and we write to each other. I’m invited to her house every Christmas, and I always make sure to go.”

Michelos tried to imagine a Christmas where he didn’t become shit-faced. It was hard- it had been a few years.

“And that’s really all there is,” Tumnus finished up, and the nonchalance of the sentence seemed out of tune.

Michelos struggled to come up with a reply, and decided that blunt honesty had done him well so far. “Well, I’m pretty lucky your parents are dead then, cause I doubt I could stand speak to them without losing my head.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out from Tumnus. “Only you would say that. And what makes you think you would ever meet them, hmm?” he teased.

“Didn’t think you were returning home alone, did ya?” And he was almost surprised by how much he meant this. Yes, his Faunling wouldn’t be returning to a cold house, sitting alone with his dusty books until a neighbor girl asked to come to tea. Michelos would see to that.

Tumnus had a pleased, coy smile as he said, “Oh… well, I suppose I’m not.” He gave a dainty yawn.

Michelos put his arm over Tumnus’ furred waist and placed a gentle kiss on those red lips. “Goodnight, Faunling.”

“Hmm. Sweet dreams, Love,” Tumnus mumbled, and with that he seemed to fall asleep.

And despite wanting to watch the faun’s sleeping face- so filled with innocence and peace, milky skin glowing lightly in the moonlight falling from the windows- Michelos soon found himself lulled into slumber as well, indeed filled with sweet dreams.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumnus POV

It was with mixed feelings that Tumnus received the news that he and Michelos would be left alone in the house for the next few days.

“I have some business I must attend to,” said Professor Xavier. “Hank will be accompanying me. I’ve made plans for Sean and Alex to visit family… I don’t quite trust them alone yet.”

Tumnus fidgeted with his scarf. It was dark green today, a Christmas gift from Nana. “Ah, well… I’ll make sure to look after the manor then.” It seemed an awfully big responsibility for someone who had only just entered the household.

Professor Xavier gave him a kind smile. “I do hope that you won’t let Michelos wreck the place while I’m gone.”

“Oh… well, I’ll try my best.” Tumnus gave a tepid grin in return. “But, if I may ask, why are you suddenly leaving?"

The professor frowned, his chin wrinkling. “I thought that Michelos could use some… time alone, what with his current loss. And… not only that, but I have an important undertaking at hand that I’ve put off for far too long.” Xavier stared to the side, lost in memory.

 _I wonder if it has to do with Erik…_ But the faun didn’t dare ask, and so simply wished Professor Xavier safe travel.

+++

The following days went by like a gentle current. Tumnus perused- with permission, of course- that manor’s extensive libraries in the morning, and spent afternoons with private picnics outside, reading his new finds to Michelos as the satyr laid his head on the faun’s lap.

Kisses started gentle, but after a handful of evenings they became urgent. A nightly ritual began of stroking and petting. Soon Tumnus felt like he smelled more of Michelos than himself, something that the satyr assured him, with a cocky smirk, was not the case. And Michelos became more- well, not impatient. Tumnus no longer denied the satyr physical intimacy, but there was something that seemed to be building between them. And even though he may have been inexperienced, it did not mean he wasn’t… knowledgeable.

But Michelos hadn’t asked him to go beyond a mutual wank, and Tumnus wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask for more. If he was ready for more.

+++

He opened Michelos’ door at the shout to come in, and wasn’t surprised to find the satyr lounging on the bed with a plate full of food by his side. He was, however, disappointed.

He placed his hands on furred hips. “I thought we were going to have lunch together.”

“Ai, but that was before you waited till two in the afternoon to finish searching through that accursed library,” Michelos replied before chewing off a chunk of bread.

“Oh my… is it really that late?” He checked the clocks and found it to be indeed true. “My apologies, I just found and excellent translation of The Odyssey and was rereading Book Nine-”

Michelos grunted. “Oi, off with that.” The satyr patted the place next to him. “Come up and eat something. I grabbed enough for us both.”

Tumnus hopped on the bed without another word. The room was much lovelier, now that there wasn’t a pile of filth covering the floor and a stench that could turn up even a normal human nose. The bed sheets had been freshly laundered and set to dry only the day before. They smelled of the sun.

Michelos set his head upon Tumnus’ lap- as was now customary- and set upon watching with what could only be described as adoration as the faun popped a grape into his mouth. 

“Hmm?” Tumnus gave a crafty smile, licking his too red lips. “Do you want some?" 

Michelos opened his lips in reply. The faun began to place grapes in the satyr’s mouth, one by one, and grew slightly red as the satyr’s tongue lapped at his fingers as he did so. 

“I really shouldn’t encourage you. Next you’ll be asking me to peel them for you.” 

“That would be mighty kind of yee, Faunling.” 

Tumnus gave him a playful glower. “No. That’s where all the vitamins are. Besides, I would get juice all over my fingers.” He presented the stubby digits, as if to show what a heinous action that would be. 

Michelos took the faun’s hand, sitting up. “Ah, but I would be more than happy to clean them up.” And, as if to demonstrate his skills at performing such an action, he began to lick up and down Tumnus’ index finger. 

“Oh…” he didn’t quite know how to respond with that, except to perhaps grow redder. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelos POV

Michelos peered up at his Faunling, gauging the other’s reaction. When he found nothing to show displeasure, he moved closer and began to unwrap Tumnus’ scarf, a new signal between the two that he wished to take his actions beyond a mere kiss. And, like the good Faunling he was, Tumnus allowed Michelos to do so.

Pale neck now exposed, he kissed along it, nipping with delicate affection, his thumbs running circles upon the faun’s nipples. Tumnus moaned quietly, his back arching, almost seeming to gift his neckline to Michelos’ appetite. The satyr accepted the offering with long, languid strokes of tongue.

“Hmm… Michelos, I…,” Tumnus began with honeyed voice, and the scent he was giving off was beyond any bouquet Michelos had chance to smell before. 

“What is it, Faunling?” He began to stroke careful circles along the small of Tumnus’ back. He noticed with growing pleasure that Tumnus’ charming tail and begun to beat steadily up and down, an encouraging gesture that had started to occur in their last few encounters.

“I-It’s just… I-I…I…I…” Tumnus sounded like a skipping record.

“Shh, It’s all right.” Worried, he took the slighter man in his arms, kissing Tumnus’ forehead tenderly, pale horns pressing into his cheekbones. “What’s wrong?” 

He had thought that everything was going swimmingly so far. He had tried to take it slowly; slower than when they had first met, preparing Tumnus for… But, only when his Faunling was ready, for he had learned that he no longer wished to simply take his desires. He wanted Tumnus to feel those same desires as well.

Despite that, he couldn’t help the growl that came as the faun shoved him away.

Tumnus shook his head. “No, no, wait. I just…” 

To Michelos’ astonishment, the faun turned so that he was on hands and knees, and lowered his chest downwards, his arse now propped up before the satyr, tail waving like a flag. Michleos quickly found himself growing hungrier than ever. The satyr rocketed out of bed, knocking the tray to the floor with a clatter, but neither he nor the blushing Tumnus commented upon the spoiled food. Scrambling at his dresser drawer, he flung his few pieces of clothing to come upon his always-handy jar of Vaseline. He knew that spit wasn’t going to suffice, especially if his Faunling was a virgin…

And, with that thought, Michelos felt his heady arousal turn hard and aching. He trotted back towards the bed, and found Tumnus, though still in that come hither pose, had buried his hands in his face, ears shining red. Now that wouldn’t do.

Michelos came up from behind the faun, now too on knees, and placed the jar besides him. He began to kiss along the other’s spine, reveling in every shiver and muffled gasp he produced. He felt his cowbell necklace follow along the movement, clanking as it did so. When he reached the nape of the neck, a part he knew was particularly sensitive, he made sure to bite down wetly.

“Tumnus,” he whispered, and tenderly placed his hands atop of the faun’s. “Take your hands away from your face.”

“Oh, but this is so _embarrassing_.”

“I know, Faunling, but you’re going to need to breathe for this next part.” He stroked the back of his lover's hands with his fingertips, before gently forcing them away. Tumnus turned his head to the side, and oh, did those wide blue eyes ever look terrified.

Michelos placed a hand on the faun’s chest, lifting his torso upwards. The satyr bent down to give the other a kiss, biting those lips so that they turned from red to crimson. 

Looking down at his handiwork, he found it far more alluring then any rouge a woman had ever worn for him. He placed his arms down to steady himself. “Tá tú go h-álainn…,” he said with rich emotion. _You’re so beautiful…_

Tumnus looked away, but he had begun to stop trembling beneath Michelos’ fingertips. The faun gave a content sigh, and kissed the satyr’s forearm.

Michelos grabbed the jar and began to gather a generous amount of lotion with his right hand. He rubbed it with his fingertips to gather warmth, and with his left he messaged Tumnus’ neck tenderly, trying to maintain the sense of calm that seemed to have befallen the faun. He moved that hand downwards, slowly, trailing callous fingers down the other’s back, before moving to cup that furry arse. He gave a reassuring squeeze, eliciting a timid moan, and began to spread Tumnus out. Without further ado, he took a slicked finger and began to tease around the faun’s hole. Tumnus gave a startled cry, wriggling his hips in shock. His breathing started to become haggard.

“Don’t tighten up,” Michelos commanded into his lover’s ear. He had leaned his lithe body over the faun’s, his left hand once again planted onto the mattress.

Tumnus took a few deep, calming breaths, and a shaking hand seized Michelos’ wrist as if to anchor itself.

The satyr pushed one heavily coated finger within Tumnus and felt a greedy pull at the digit. He began to slowly message, and when he found the passage loosened added a second. The faun was beginning to bleat, a sign that he was now lost in his own lust.

Michelos paused in his administrations. “Do you know what I’m going to do, Faunling?”

Tumnus nodded, panting. “I… I’ve read… literature.”

He snorted. “What, that’s what your morning research has been about?”

“Oh, oh no!” The faun was quick to reassure, “The professor doesn’t own books of that nature!” Michelos wasn’t quite persuaded of that, but Tumnus finished with a soft, “I read them before… I arrived here.”

That didn’t sit well with Michelos. “You were imagining doing this with other men?” His fingers within the faun clenched involuntarily, and Tumnus gave a strangled whine at the action. Concerned, Michelos tried to calm himself.

“N-no… n-never with, with a-anyone in p-particular. I-I actually…” And with that, Tumnus could not find the courage to say any more.

Michelos growled. That wouldn’t bloody **do**. He began to thrust his fingers with an almost savage intent, careful not to harm, but making sure that Tumnus’ insides would ache slightly with the action.

The faun gave a wallowing whimper. “Oh p-please, please Michelos, d-don’t make me s-say it.” Tumnus closed his eyes, biting his lower lip.

Michelos remained silent, and instead added a third finger, keeping the pace quick. His own cock was now at attention, rubbing against Tumnus’ furred inner thigh, and he felt that he was quickly losing himself. 

Satisfied that the faun was now properly loosened he removed his fingers, eliciting a weak cry of protest. Angling himself properly, he grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip against the now slick entrance. He leaned down to whisper in his lover's ear. “Tell me what you were going to say, Faunling.”

Tumnus was shivering, but Michelos knew it was with want now, not fear. “P-please… d-don’t…”

“If you want my cock… you will tell me what you were going to say.” It was an empty threat, but with Tumnus in the state he was in now…

“I… I would…”

The faun seemed to suddenly develop an eerie calm, and starred straight into Michelos' own grey eyes. 

“I would imagine that a satyr, with large horns and a large cock, something straight out of myth, would fuck me senseless.”

With a primal growl, Michelos entered the faun with one fluid thrust.

“Baaaaaaaaaa!” Tumnus bleated, his eyes widening. His spine became rim rod straight, forcing Michelos even deeper in. “Ah…ba-baaa…”

The satyr winced in sympathy. “Stay still,” he grunted, trying to latch tightly to any semblance of control; for Tumnus was as warm, and tight, and welcoming as Michelos had ever imagined. The faun almost seemed to squeeze along the satyr’s length with encouragement, and Michelos panted as he tried to force away the instinct to shove himself in completely. Even his most practiced ex-lovers had found difficulty handling his cock.

“Faunling, are you alright?”

“F-fine, Love.” Tumnus sounded dazed, and only a little pained. “I can take more.”

Michelos switched off hands to steady himself with, and used clean fingers to stroke the faun’s now sweaty locks. He kissed a warm temple. “You’re doing great. Just don’t forget to breath.” He had to stifle a chuckle as Tumnus took loud, damp breaths. “There, that’s good.” He slid in the remaining few, thick inches, and now fully sheathed within the faun gave the other a moment to adjust.

“Michelos, I’m ready,” Tumnus said in a husky whisper after only a few moments.

“Are you sure?” He nibbled on one of the faun’s adorably long ears.

Tumnus quivered. “Yes, do it, fuck me. I want it.” He rolled his hips, challengingly.

Michelos gave a predator like grin. “I’ll give you everything, Faunling.” He grasped his lover's hips and began to give shallow thrusts of his cock, moving deep within Tumnus, forcing himself to concentrate on the pulling heat, his cowbell clinking lightly with the movement. He had to be careful. He didn’t want to damage the faun on only their first fuck among what he would make sure to be many.

Tumnus panted for him sweetly. “God, you’re so big,” he whined.

“Perhaps your wanton self is just too tight,” Michelos’ hoarsely replied.

Tumnus almost purred as the satyr stroked his chest, now mere inches from the bed sheet. The faun gave a strangled cry as Michelos slid over just the right spot. Gasping, he stretched his back once more, meeting one of Michelos’ shallow thrusts. “Faster,” Tumnus pleaded. “More.”

Michelos was only too happy to comply. His hips snapped at the joint as he set upon fulfilling every desire Tumnus may have had, pounding his lover into the mattress, causing the faun’s arms to collapse. Michelos grabbed around Tumnus’ ribs, rocking forward all the while, and forced Tumnus' sweaty back to press against him. He grabbed a few pillows and placed them under the the faun's chest before allowing his hands to resume their hold upon those lovely, furred hips. His lover now properly placed, he began to thrust with abandon. Soon his own dark desires swelled within him, and he found it hard to fight them in order to preserve any semblance of comfort he could afford. 

“Don’t… stop, stop controlling yourself,” his chroí, his heart, said with hazy conviction. “You can do whatever… I’m ready, for whatever, Love.”

Michelos’ control crumbled at the last word, and almost of their volition his hips began to quicken their pace. He found himself pounding long, quick strokes into the faun, his vision turning hazy as sweat dripped from his forehead, his panting turning to gravel.

The sweet cries from beneath him quickly turned to animalistic beating, and Tumnus began once more to tremble, crying out for more, faster, harder; Michelos was more than happy to oblige. His necklace echoed along with their combined groans. Through the lust-fueled vapor that was slowly eating away at his sanity, Michelos slowly grasped a thought that his Faunling was not being dealt with properly. He took his right hand, still slightly slick with lotion, and grabbed along Tumnus’ velvety cock.

“N-no! No, if you do that, I-I’ll come!” Tumnus protested, too weak at this point to do more then send out a verbal complaint.

“Then come.” Michelos began to rub the wanting member lovingly.

“No… I want… I want…” Those pathetic moans were enough to send the satyr’s blood boiling. “I want us to come together.”

Michelos gave a feral growl. “Then _come_ ,” he commanded.

Tumnus shuddered, and finally allowed himself to be brought to completion, releasing a cry that sent an electric current up Michelos’ spine. He would be the only one to make his Faunling sound like this, the only one to bring him this pleasure. Tumnus’ insides squeezed the satyr’s cock, almost as if in a caress, and he was unable to hold back his own powerful orgasm from filling the faun.

He slumped forward, spent, his chest pressed against the sweat slick back of his lover. He nipped playfully at his Faunling’s neck, tasting the salty flesh. They laid like that, catching their breaths. It was only after a few moments went by before Tumnus exclaimed softly, “Oh…”

“Hmm?” Near delirious with happiness, Michelos snuggled closer.

“Oh, it’s just… you’re… well, your _cock_ , its…” All that wanton braveness had seemed to dissipate, and the faun was unable to complete the sentence.

Michelos shifted his hips, and was suddenly aware that a large bulge had seemed to form along his length, making him unable to pull away.

“Well that’s… odd…”

“This hasn’t happened before?!”

“I’ve never fucked anyone in this form,” the satyr admitted.

“Well, if my limited knowledge of animals is anything to pull from… I believe you’ve knotted me.” The faun’s tongue seemed thick with embarrassment.

“Knotted? What the fuck is that?”

Tumnus gave a loud sigh. “A knot is an erectile tissue structure on the penis of certain animals. During mating, the tissues swell up and tie the male's penis inside the mate.”

“And how long is it suppose to last?” Not that, of course, it wasn’t a pleasurable experience. Tumnus’ warm insides were currently stroking his cock.

“I don’t know.” The meek faun had covered his face again. “I remember a friend once saying his dogs had stayed connected for a good half hour…”

“Hmm…” Michelos wrapped his arms around Tumnus’ stomach, placing his chin on the other’s shoulder. “Then I suppose we should get comfortable.”

The faun moaned, and the satyr responded by placing a playful kiss on his lover's temple.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles POV

There it was again… that clanking sound. Was someone banging on a copper pot? If Hank hadn’t run off to the basement to check on his experiments the moment they arrived, Charles would have asked the other man for his opinion.

A worried and weary Charles wheeled up to the library door. Ever since he had returned he couldn’t help but hear a distant echo of… Really, did Michelos see fit to it to let a barnyard animal in the manor? For that was surely a cowbell, and by the noise of it, a loose goat had gotten loose and was running amuck, in his treasured library none the less!

Perhaps it was the combination of jet lag and the fear that some furry beast was chewing on his precious books that made him open the door without mentally scanning within it first, but the reason behind the action didn’t really help with the issue that he did. And that he immediately regretted doing so.

Because inside his library was none other then the two mutants he had left in charge of his home, and they were doing what could be described as nothing less then fucking each other into oblivion. Or perhaps that wasn’t quite right. It seemed that Michelos, the noise coming from his gaudy cowbell necklace, was doing his best to fuck Tumnus into the wall, while the faun was bleating up a storm, back arched, neck bare…

Well, they were both always naked, but somehow without a colorful scarf around his neck, Tumnus seemed positively _exposed_. Especially in the position he was currently in, hands holding onto a bookshelf for what seemed to be dear life.Before he could really think on it, Charles scanned the mental activities of the two busy lovers. Remarkably he received absolutely nothing but static at the moment, their animalistic mindsets seeming to have taken over.

Tumnus gave a long, strangled moan; one that Charles was very well aware came from a man on the brink of orgasm. Chalres suddenly had a- perhaps inappropriate- thought of, “Oh god, he’s going to positively _ruin_ my books!”

But before he could do anything as stupid and careless as interrupt them- though he was sure that Michelos could live with that action, he and Tumnus surely wouldn’t get off so easily- he noticed that the satyr had placed a table cover over the faun’s cock.

Cheeks red as his favorite scarf, eyes squeezed shut, wanton groans crying out, Tumnus spent himself into Michelos’ hand, his chest heaving. It seemed the satyr was quick to follow suit, his own sounds of satisfaction mingling with the faun’s heavy breaths. They stood there, Michelos’ arms now wrapped around his sated lover, placing a kiss on his sweaty neck.

Their minds more settled, Charles was now able to get a read off of them. Tumnus was giving thoughts of _tired, happy, sated,_ and strongest of all, _love_. Michelos- not quite so innocent- had possessiveness rolling from his shoulders, _mine, no-one-else’s, all mine,_ but still had that just as strong feeling of _love,_ combined with _must make sure he’s comfortable, must make sure he’s happy._

“Are you alright?” Michelos growled, his voice betraying only one tenth of his actual concern.

“Oh, just peachy, Love, though… it’s happening again, isn’t it?” Tumnus asked with apprehension, voice now husky.

Whatever did he mean by that?

Michelos grunted. “The first time took thirty minutes, and the second time twenty, so we may get off with ten, this being the third time and all.” 

Whatever were they talking about?

Tumnus gave an exhausted laugh. “To think that you never knew about this whole knotting business… well, new experiences all around, I suppose.” His knees were beginning to shake with the uncomfortable position. Knotting? Suddenly the fact that Michelos had yet to move his own cock from its current position was glaringly obvious.

Michelos hugged his lover closer, shifting his own body to come to a more comfortable stance. “We’re never standing for the third go again,” he decided.

“I didn’t want to do it here in the first place! I just wanted to put some books back on the shelf, before I forgot where they went!”

“Oi, couldn’t help it, you playing sexy librarian and all.”

“I wasn’t _playing_ anything, you absolute wanker-!”

And with that, Charles decided it was best to leave the bickering couple to themselves.

+++

He couldn’t think of much else to do, so, like the good scientist he was he decided to write down his findings on the mating habits of animal-like mutations, something he decided he would surely never publish but may find useful when dealing with others that had similar qualities.

_I find it strange that these animal-like mutants would mate with each other, even though their personalities are not compatible at all. This truly must be a trait of their beastly nature, far removed from human-minded common sense…_

“Hello, Charles,” came a familiar voice behind him.

Charles turned his head sharply, and there stood the ever silent- even more silent to Charles with the gaudy helmet shining on his head- Erik. Or, perhaps it was best to think of him as Magneto… but even thinking of doing such a thing caused his heart to ache.

He coughed awkwardly. “Hello, old friend.”

Erik, in a positively magenta outfit- really, the man should have stuck to the skin tight turtle necks that suited him so well- and a dramatic, black cape, walked up so that he stood beside Charles. Not that Charles could stand, of course.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been searching for me… foolish of you, of course, but oddly endearing I suppose,” Erik said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Charles glared. “I simply wanted to speak with you, Erik. You haven’t visited for weeks, and now that I have Cerebro up and running I need to lay a few ground rules about the school, now that I may have new students. Forth most, a phone call actually asking permission to come would be lovely-”

But before Charles had time to finish up his much rehearsed speech, Erik was kissing and touching and picking him bodily up, walking confidently to the bed, and Charles was far too busy kissing and touching back to protest.

+++

It was really a testament to Erik’s extreme confidence that he was cheeky enough- or perhaps, in his current post-sex haze, unthinking enough- to answer the knocking on Charles’ door with, “Enter.”

Well, both of them were dressed again, currently beginning a game of chess, Erik sans cape, gloves, jacket, Charles sans cardigan, but still both decently enough dressed to welcome visitors. That wasn’t really the point, however, and Charles would have sent a mental, _"That’s not your call, Erik,"_ if not for the extremely annoying fact that the other man had decided to put back on his helmet right after rolling off the bed.

So when Tumnus and Michelos entered it was with a bit of embarrassment, not only in the fact that Charles had recently watched the pair make love- or that he had just finished with the act himself- but that there was currently a strange man in his bedroom that came with a very awkward back story to explain to his newest students.

Erik narrowed his eyes at the pair of right down mythological mutants, and flashed them both a smile that was every inch as toothy as Michelos’.

“Oh!” Tumnus seemed startled, and for some reason he began fidget with his scarf. Charles knew that Erik often had that effect on more… gentle souls. “Oh! I didn’t realize- we didn’t realize, that you had company. We can come back if now is not a good time, we just realized you were back so we thought… to say hello, I suppose.”

Hmm. Suddenly it was _we_? Since when had it been we? “ _After they began performing mating rituals in my lirbary, I suppose_ ,” Charles thought to himself, and was very much shocked by how the pair had seemed to transform into a picturesque couple in the matter of days, arms currently touching. Michelos sent a glare Erik’s way with an _intruder, threat, protect_ , moving closer to Tumnus in a possessive manner, something that the faun was very much oblivious to. 

“Oh, of course not.” Charles wanted to be quick to reassure, “I would never turn down a welcome, even when I’m receiving visitors. Tumnus, Michelos, this is Erik, my… friend.”

Erik hadn’t taken his eyes from the other two until that moment, but he sent a quick glance Charles’ way at the statement, seemingly surprised at the introduction.

“Ai, that’s what I was thinking,” said Michelos, cheeky as ever. “Your buttons are one off, Xavier.”

Charles stammered out an excuse of being tired and travel weary as he quickly went about fixing the problem. “But I get the feeling that you have something else on your mind Tumnus,” he said in an attempt to change topic. “Do you mind sharing what it is?”

Tumnus was quick to blabber out apologies and excuses, and it wasn’t until Michelos had squeezed his shoulder and gave a comforting smile- shocking, that the satyr could do anything resembling comfort- that he finally took a deep breath and said what was on his mind. “Michelos and I, well, we’re going to leave in a few weeks.”

Charles was genuinely sorry to hear of his timid friend leaving him so soon. “Oh, that really is a shame! I wanted to learn so much about both of you, and I feel that you have a far way to go with your own abilities…”

Tumnus smiled. “I know, and Michelos has agreed to do whatever tests you may have for us.” And, judging by the look on the satyr’s face, this had been a begrudging agreement, which had probably involved a lot of kissing and pleading on the faun’s part. “And I still want to learn more about my powers, it’s just… well, not only do I miss home, but I decided that I’m going to try to obtain my college degree as soon as possible, and then set up a school for mutants like this one, in England.”

“Oh…” Well, that was surprising.

Charles didn’t need telepathic abilities to sense the excitement in Tumnus. “My home isn’t as big as yours, but it’s fairly large. I already know of one girl who I suspect has mutant abilities, and I was hoping that we could work together, since you already have Cerebro. I think that, out of everything that I’ve ever felt I wanted to do with my life, this is really something that makes me proud.” The statement was threaded with a lot of emotion, not one of them being hesitation.

“Well,” admitted Charles, “this is surprising. I didn’t think that you had so much… ambition.” Or courage, for that matter.

Tumnus nodded, and shyly took Michelos’ hand, once more radiating _love_ and _happy_ and _contentment_ as he looked up into his lover’s grey eyes, who was staring adoringly back. “Neither did I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end of my first fan fiction! What a lovely experience. As you can see I posted it on LJ as I updated, and decided to put the edited final version on AO3. From now on I'll be updating chapters on both sites, however. That being said, I have a few announcements.
> 
> 1\. I made a tumblr page (I don't know if anyone would want to join it, but I thought I may as well) for anyone who may want to follow any future fan fictions I write. I promise that I'll be posting all updates for any future fan fictions there. Link to follow: http://ember-to-ash.tumblr.com/
> 
> 2\. My next fan fiction will not be Tumnus x Michelos, but rather Cherik. It's going to involve kitty ears and pet play, so if that sounds interesting please follow the story (once I get around writing/posting it) here on AO3.
> 
> 3\. I've decided that I love these characters too much, and I definitely want to write a sequel. Said sequel would definitely involve the foursome with the mutants that appeared in this scene =w=. It's going to be short and to the point, so I may write it before I finish my next story.
> 
> 4\. I'm looking for editers to beta. I have found a lovely candidate, but they're unsure about checking for things other than grammar. I would love if I had someone to not only do that but to tell me when my syntax is off, word choice is wanting, to bounce ideas off of, etc. If you're interested please email me at ember_to_ash@yahoo.com
> 
> 5\. I may be AWOL for awhile, given that college has finally caught up to me, but if you're patient I'll definitely start up writing again, at least after March is over!
> 
> 6\. Comments/Feedback/Etc are very welcome, especially since I'm very new to the fan fiction game. Tear my story apart so that I come back stronger!

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to follow my updates on tumblr, I have an account [here](http://ember-to-ash.tumblr.com/) solely for that. This won't be used for anything but my fanfictions if you're worried about spam! ^^


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